I'll Be Home
by CdnJAGScribe
Summary: Task Force 80 is in the Med and those at JAG are worried about their significant others.


"I'll Be Home"

Author: Haruo Chikamori

E-mail: hhchikamori

Rating: M

Classification: Lia/Animal; Meg/Brian; and Harm/Jen

Spoilers:

Summary: Task Force 80 is in the Med and those at JAG are worried about their significant others.

DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Meg Austin, Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Hugo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.

Author's Note: As of right now the only two stories in this timeline are Home For The Holidays and Storm Clouds Ahead. As I firm up this timeline, be ready for some "bitch-Mac" stories. :D ~evil grin~. I'm deviating from the normal operational history of the USS Theodore Roosevelt (the Big Stick) in that in RL, TR was in drydock undergoing PIA (Planned Incremental Availability for six months in 2002 from April to October 2002) and didn't get underway until January 2003 for a scheduled month-long training period in the Puerto Rican Operating Area. From there she was ordered to the Mediterranean for active duty. So in my story, she's going out early – she got underway in late November…and was ordered to the Med in December.

_**TF 80 – Carrier Strike Group 2; Flag Bridge, USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71); Somewhere in the Mediterranean; December 2, 2002**_

The day dawned gray with a low cloud ceiling - it was typical weather for the Med in December; cloudy and dreary and the looming grey cumulus didn't bode well as it looked like impending rain. Animal shook his head as he looked out through the 07 level panoramic windows over the flight deck. The navigation bridge, where the captain of the USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) guided the 106,300 ton displacement warship through the waters 450 miles off the coast of Malta enroute to Naples through the Tyrrhenian Sea, was just above him on the 08 Level. Pri-Fly was above the captain's head on the 09 level.

"Admiral?" Animal turned to see Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. and Lieutenant Bud Roberts standing beside him.

"So…Commander Rabb…" Animal normally eschewed formalities however, this was a technically one of the two bridges on an aircraft carrier and thus formalities were a foregone conclusion. "Investigation finished?" he asked.

"Sir, we're awaiting the last few interviews from those involved and then we should be heading back to Falls Church." Harm replied as he looked over at the rear admiral lower half who was standing in front of his flag chair.

"So…that should take about how long?" Animal asked pointedly. The investigation should have been a simple interview process. It was a straight-forward accident investigation. One of the F/A-18Cs that landed crunched a starboard landing gear and it was simple maintenance error as far as Animal was concerned. It shouldn't have required a two week on-board investigation. A few reprimand letters from higher up and it should have been finished so Animal was not impressed.

Harm winced; he knew that JAG was stepping on toes on this investigation. Normally it would have been wrapped up quickly but there were certain anomalies that stuck out on this investigation that could prove to be sticky. When he had done a walk through the maintenance level on the O1 level, he had noticed several discrepancies on the log sheet of the F/A-18C. Frankly, the tech should not have signed off on the bird, when he looked at the broken gear with the help of the senior chief aviation structural mechanic in charge of maintenance on the Hornet's landing gear – the main-gear pivot point arm was cracked and that pretty much was not noticed due to the fact that the amount of grit and salt on the gear hadn't been washed in what appeared to be a few weeks. The aviator was having a hard time getting back aboard and a sudden 25 knot cross-wind caused the aircraft's port wing to rise just as it came over the fantail. Unfortunately, the aviator was committed to landing by that point and when the F/A-18C had set down, all 28,000 pounds of aircraft had landed on its starboard gear…hard and the cracked main-gear pivot arm snapped, sending the severed gear bouncing across the deck like a 600lb rubber ball, sailors diving off the deck into the nets to avoid the crazily spinning wheel and severed landing gear arm – which finally ended up slamming into an aircraft tow-cart – fortunately unoccupied as the former occupants fled in terror. The flammable hydraulic fluid sprayed across the no-skid as the stub of the snapped main-mount still attached to the aircraft travelling across the no-skid threw up sparks flew igniting the hydraulic fluid. Quick thinking by the red-shirts prevented a major catastrophe as they sprayed fire-suppression foam onto the aircraft and the trail of burning hydraulic fluid. The only good thing about that landing was that the aviator snagged a three wire and didn't risk going into the drink.

Harm, therefore, had to look into that a lot more before he could determine whether or not a inquiry into an Article 32 investigation for an punitive Article 92 _Dereliction of Duty_ could be forwarded. After all failure to notice a major mechanical fault in the landing gear of a thirty-two million dollar aircraft was considered a violation of SOP (standard operating procedure) and considering that violation in SOP had caused a major incident – it was definite that the violator in question was going to trial. "I'd say, sir, that the accident in question was definitely a situation where a case for Dereliction of Duty can be made." He informed Animal whose face contorted into a frown.

"Explain, Commander." The dry tone in the admiral's voice brooked no excuses.

_**JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, December 12, 2002. **_

"Commander Rabb, you're just back from the USS Theodore Roosevelt? Would you join me in the office?" RADM AJ Chegwidden hailed his senior attorney who had just walked through the double-doors of the office, looking like he had just gotten wrung through a wringer after flying 18 hours straight on the COD and a C-17 back to Andrews from Rota, Spain, which was at the very tip of the C-2 Greyhound's operational range. Rabb looked absolutely exhausted.

"Yes, sir." Harm managed to come to a somewhat respectable attention despite his fatigue.

"I hate to tell you this, but you're requested on board the Coral Sea by Tom Boone – retired Rear Admiral Boone no less – He's onboard as a rep for a military contractor making a corporate presentation to the Coral Sea's command." AJ stated as he handed over a folder. "You've been requested by Chief of Naval Operations to review the new Atlantic Fleet JAG command structure and go over it with the S-1 JAG and ships command onboard the Coral Sea as per rotation through the Atlantic fleet to make sure that all fleet JAGs understand the situation." Harm refrained from groaning out loud. He was looking forward to a good long sleep, but unfortunately circumstances were beyond his control. Harm thought this was the perfect representation of the old military adage BOHICA – bend over, here it comes again."

_**CO, CAB (Combat Assault Battalion); Third Marine Division, Okinawa, Japan**_

"Lieutenant Colonel Nakamura." The bird colonel in command of the 3rd Marine Regiment stated as they finished inspection. "Looks like your troops are all fire-eaters…looking good."

"The Battalion XO has been on them like stink on shit, sir. They wanted to make sure that we passed the inspection, but they're looking forward to the evolution they're going on next week, sir, with the Japanese. A lot of amphib training. Sir." Brian replied as he looked over at the Regiment CO.

"Well, that's good to hear, Lieutenant Colonel. At least we'll be ready for that. Now. Tell me, how's Major Vander Hagen working out as the XO?"

"Solid motivator, sir, he's quite the go-getter. I'm sure he's going to be selected for battalion command in the next go-around."

"On a more personal note…" Colonel Davis Ryan looked over at his CAB/3 CO; a long-time friend. "You still seeing that JAG Lieutenant Commander you met up with three months ago? Austin?"

"Yes, sir…" Brian grinned back at COL Ryan. "But considering that she's stationed in Rota, Spain, that might be a bit of schedule juggling, sir."

_**USS Coral Sea, CVN-74 (CVN-74 is actually the USS John C. Stennis); December 24, 2002 1300hrs (GMT+1)**_

Harm looked on in disgust as he saw the tailhook of the C-2 Greyhound bounce along the no-skid of the USS Coral Sea. If things couldn't get any worse…"So…will this be your first Christmas Eve aboard ship?" Boone's voice was tauntingly matter-of-fact and altogether too cheery as he locked eyes with Harm. Harm rolled his eyes as he stared at the tail-hook laying there. Boone had a head start to the hatch of the tower and Harm did his best to catch up.

Much later, Harm strode into the officer's mess as he searched for Boone. "You were right, last C-2 of the day…"

Boone retorted, "Looks like we'll be hanging our stockings from our rack..."

"I have to get back, Bud and Harriet are hosting a Christmas Eve party…" Harm protested.

"So's my sister, but that doesn't make it possible." Boone shrugged his shoulders.

Harm lifted up a piece of paper…and gave it a cursory inspection. "Plan…B…" he uttered cryptically with a cheerful looking smirk.

"So, what's that…" Boone asked, "…a design for a raft?"

"It's today's flight schedule…" Harm looked smug as he turned the paper over and up so Boone could read it "…and…" meanwhile tapping the desired entry that Boone was supposed to look at with his right-hand index finger. "…an F-14 to be returned to Lakehurst, New Jersey." Inclining his head in an indicative manner that they should try to do everything they could to maneuver their way into returning said F-14 to said facility.

Boone returned his nod with a silent _well-done_ as a broad smile came over his face.

_**JAG Headquarters, Judiciary Division, Falls Church, VA, December 24**__**th**__**, 1655hrs (GMT-5)**_

"They have to be kidding me?!" Commander Liandra Gracen Nakamura grumbled as she heard from Legalman Two Coates, "We have three Kuwaiti attorneys wanting to observe our _justice system_? Don't they celebr- that's right, they don't!" Lia interrupted herself as she rolled her eyes – the Middle East was Muslim and thus did not celebrate Christmas. Coates tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible making sure that she wasn't the target of the judge's rant. "Legalman, did you know exactly when these said attorneys would be arriving…so that I can see if there's a case being heard that they can observe?" Lia affixed Coates with a look. Coates endeavored to mollify the rather perturbed the commander whom she knew wasn't angry at her, but at the inconvenience and short-notice of the assignment in question. After all, Coates was new around the office, just transferred in today and didn't want to start her new assignment off on the wrong foot.

"Well, ma'am. According to Admiral Chegwidden, ma'am, they've landed at the airport and they're on their way here."

Lia refrained from letting loose a stream of four-letter words aimed at no-one in general that would be a possible conduct unbecoming an officer. "Just what we need on the holidays." She muttered. Well, with her husband on the TR and unable to return for Christmas; it didn't seem as though she was doing anything much over the holiday asides from the Christmas Eve party with the Roberts family this evening.

"Well…ma'am, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to helping out Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie, ma'am."

"That's fine, Coates…" Lia replied as she shook her head wondering silently how the higher ups could get this information swap so gloriously snafu'd. On top of that…she'd had to get Harm to help her put up the Christmas lights this year because Animal had deployed in the latter half of November on a shake-down cruise prior to deployment. Then of course, as luck would have it, he was diverted out to the Mediterranean thanks to the Joint Chiefs ordering them to operational duty in the middle of the shakedown cruise from Planned Incremental Availability because they needed another CVN on station.

Deciding she should go down to find out what was going on in the litigation department she departed the judiciary offices and headed for the familiar double-doors. Pushing open the doors she found a heavily pregnant Marine wife and her Corporal husband being led off to the admiral's office, and Sturgis, Mac and the Admiral standing around wondering how the hell their orderly office had just become a mad-house.

"Sir?" she inquired curiously as she peered at the backs of said corporal and near-due date spouse.

"Don't ask, Commander." The admiral muttered as he rubbed his forehead and headed off to get himself a late-afternoon coffee. Evidently he needed it.

Mac explained. "Evidently the Corporal was evicted from his base-assisted housing for playing the drums; he has approached JAG to assist him in getting some emergency housing for him and his wife." Lia was a fan of rock music, but realized that drums had a tendency to annoy the living daylights out of most people…including her husband, but then again, her husband was a classical music snob. It was no wonder why the eviction notice had come down, but that was neither here nor there. There was a pregnant woman needing shelter and the sisterhood of women rallied around to try to find some solution to help, but nothing was coming to mind.

"Where's Lieutenant Sims?" Lia asked. "Surely she could figure out something."

"Evidently, Lieutenant Roberts just called in and let us know that they were having problems with pay disbursal, so he would be trying to get that situation solved. So Lieutenant Sims is unavailable at this time." Legalman Two Coates replied.

"Have you talked to HSC (Housing Service Centre)?" Lia asked Legalman Two Coates.

"Ma'am, I tried calling their office. Evidently they closed at 1500hrs this afternoon. Probably getting an early start on the holidays."

Lia shook her head. "Of…all the inconvenient times for them to close…"

_**Tomcat 4386; sometime after 1800hrs. **_

"Do you have them in sight, 4386?" Patuxent Approach inquired.

"No joy, Patuxent Approach…" Harm responded.

"Check your GCS display…" Boone suggested…

"…but we do have IR contact along with our radar lock-on, permission to descend to 2200…"

"Unable to clear you to that altitude without visual contact, 4386."

"Uh, this is 2592…" the lost C-130 AC chimed in with a Virginian accent. " We kin turn the porch lights on for our visitors."

Harm replied "Appreciate the hospitality, 2592."

"All exterior lights, full bright…" the AC radioed. It was getting dangerous - two aircraft in the clouds blundering around in visibility roughly comparable to pea-soup.

"Nothin'." Harm indicated. "Can you get me within 200 feet…" he asked Boone who gave him a warning look.

"Not without violating FAA regs. We're on separate flight plans." Boone's response was taciturn.

"Trust me?" Harm looked to the left

"How many people you plan to piss off today?" Boone asked sarcastically.

"Ha, everyone but you…" Harm grinned.

Boone chuckled. Harm opted to take responsibility for closing in beyond FAA regs and stated so to Pax Approach…a few minutes later…they moved to close the distance between the two aircraft.

"Range, a mile and a half…" Boone called out.

"Pulling back on the power…" Harm called out as the Tomcat inched ever so closer to the flight track of the C-130. The Bitching Betty beeped a steady beep indicating an impending collision.

"35 knots… one mile…" Boone indicated. "30…1500 feet." Suddenly a fabric like snapping sound echoed through the cockpit.

"What the…!" Harm exclaimed startled.

"Collision!" Boone's alarm was evident in his voice. Veering off, Harm noticed alarm lights coming on.

"Elevator's been hit…"

"You have control!?" Boone overrode Harm's statement. "I repeat, do you have control…" as the F-14 rocked violently from the impact of whatever it was they hit.

"It's oscillating!" Harm called out, his voice sounded alarmed. "Wait…" he called out when Boone indicated that he was going to shut down the STAB system…" The horizontal stabilizer actuator system automatically exerted movements to the horizontal stabilizer to keep the aircraft level. Shutting it down would give control back to the pilot manually.

"She's dampening down…" Boone indicated as the F-14 gradually came back into control and level flight on its own as Harm breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Everything's normal up front…" he indicated to Boone who indicated everything was OK in the back too. "Better call them…" he said indicating the C-130.

"2592, you all right?" Boone radioed.

"Have a bit of a cold, didn't know you cared…" came back the Virginia drawl of the C-130 aircraft commander.

"Are you damaged 2592?" Boone asked worried.

"Uh…from what?"

"We're under the impression we hit ya." Boone inquired.

"That'd be a negative 4386…"

Pax Approach took the opportunity to chime in. "This is Patuxent Approach, you're both on my screen. No collision observed…"

"Then what the hell was that?" Harm asked.

"Aerology informs us that they lost contact with a weather balloon four and a half minutes ago." Pax River informed them dryly. "I think you found it for them, 4386…"

Boone chuckled in the backseat as Harm said. "Well, tell them we apologize…"

"…and tell them that it's still partly cloudy…" Boone volunteered his weathercast.

"I'm sure they'll appreciate, 4386…"

A few seconds later, they saw the lights of the large cargo aircraft break through the clouds…and Boone and Harm grinned.

_**Harriet and Bud's home 1900 hrs**_

"Welcome to our home…" Harriet greeted her guests as they trickled in a few at a time.

Lia gave her a hug asking her. "How is everything?"

"I'm doing fine, Ma'am…"

Gathering around the living room, the guests made idle chitchat while the dinner table was being arranged.

_**At the Viet Nam Veteran's Memorial – The Wall; Washington DC; 1925hrs**_

As Lieutenant JG Clarence thanked Harm and walked away…Harm grinned at his dad's old wingman. "Well…we got a lost sheep back from the clouds and did a good deed for the day…"

Boone nodded as he looked over at Harm. "I think it's time that I get myself on a taxi and head for home…" he said. "These old creaking bones don't do so well in the cold."

_**Nakamura Residence, 7252 Evans Mill Rd, McLean, VA 2200 hrs**_

Lia flipped open the laptop that she had after driving home from the Roberts' residence after the Christmas Eve dinner party. Checking her e-mail was one of the highlights of the day. Usually unless things got really busy, there was always an e-mail at least from her husband. Considering that he was out in the Mediterranean, this was pretty much the only way to stay in contact with him.

Sure enough when the e-mail was called up on the computer screen there was a message.

From: COMCVNSTRKGRU2

To: lgnakamura_judjag

Lia;

This is our first Christmas away from each other. Can't help but feel that it's a lonely situation we find ourselves in out here. Christmas is supposed to be a time for peace and goodwill towards men, yet we find ourselves pointing the tip of the spear whilst preparing for war. I can't help but wonder about whether we will ever learn. But as we are in uniform, we serve our country by patrolling on the front lines as deterrence towards war. I hope that one of these days, we will learn the lessons that need to be learned.

I look upon these young men and women who serve under my command. I hope that I have the knowledge, the skill and the leadership to keep them safe while we are out here doing our duty. Each one of these fine young officers and enlisted do what it takes to keep this Navy running. Each of them have sacrificed their lives to make others more secure. Each of my aviators fly around the clock to watch over the rest of the battle group. And they do us proud.

So on this Christmas Eve, I sit down in prayer and hope that each of us here will be able to return home to our families; that our deployment will conclude with a safety record unblemished; that we will never have cause to fire our weapons in anger. We have been given a calling to bear arms – a calling that we hope that we never, ever have to use. But we will do our duty; pay any price and in the back of our minds, do this for our families back home. I wish I could say _I'll be home_ for Christmas, but so do 5700 other people on board this aircraft carrier and countless others within the strike group.

This Christmas, my love, I want you to know that you are in my heart, that I miss you deeply and long for the day that we return from this deployment so that I can take you into my arms and show you just how much I love you. With this electronic mail, I send my love and my wishes for you and your co-workers to have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I will count the days until we point our nose back into the West and head for home.

All my love,

Tosh.

***THE END***

_**Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all the troops serving; both Canadian and American. **_


End file.
